When Righteous Desires Don't Go As Planned: Anonymous 2

Another anonymous post about addiction.
This writer is a twenty-something mom of 2. She loves being outside, going on adventures, cooking, and trying new things. She is all about being real. She works hard to be real and authentic, and she hopes, that by her doing so it will help others see that they can be too. Her story is not anywhere close to what she imagined it would be. She hopes that, someday, she can put her face on it, but for now, she has chosen to remain anonymous for the sake of her family. There are a lot of misconceptions about her family's struggles. The only way that she can change that is by shedding light on it. So here she is shedding just a bit of light.


I am the wife of a recovering pornography addict. I hid, alone, carrying this pain in my heart for 3 years. Before we were married my husband and I had talked about pornography. He told me that it was a past issue and it was why he left on his mission later than most. He also told me that he had taken care of it. I believed him.I told him that as long as he was honest with me I was willing to work on anything with him. Throughout our first 3 years of marriage, I would occasionally find something he missed when trying to cover his tracks or he would even mention a random slip up. We would talk about it briefly and then move on. I thought I was being kind and supportive by withholding the pain I felt from him. I knew he hated this part of himself and I didn’t want to hurt him more than he already was. We thought we could handle these relapses on our own. It started happening more frequently and we ended up meeting with our Bishop in October of 2016. There we learned about the church’s addiction recovery program and a new, to our area, family support group. We both decided to attend our respective groups.

Part of my husband's recovery work was to make a full inventory of all experiences with lust, pornography, and any sexual acting out. He shared this inventory with me, leaving out the explicit details, per my request. This revealed that he had been lying the whole time. Things were worse than he had led on and everything that I had previously known about was either lies, distortions, or half-truths. This day was one of the worst days of my life. His poor choices and deceit blew up our marriage’s foundation and left a gigantic pit. I curled up on the ground and cried for a week. It was unbearably painful to think that my temple marriage was fraudulent, my covenants were obsolete, that my 1st daughters baby blessing was invalid and any other blessings my husband had given were void. He had never been in recovery like he claimed. Our whole relationship had been poisoned with lust, objectification, deceit, and shame. After that, I became consumed by my own shame. "How could I not see this? How could I be so foolish?" I’m not enough for my husband, I became increasingly self-conscious about my post-baby body, I had past experience with an eating disorder and this triggered those feelings and urges again. It was shame city and nothing good comes out of shame. (Shame… I could go on and on about shame/shame culture… Real life-changing truths there… Brene Brown is an expert on shame. Look her up!)

The aftermath of this event left me with something called Betrayal Trauma. (Finally having a name for what I was experiencing was SO validating!) It mirrors many symptoms of PTSD. I experienced triggers regularly. I.E. Walking through the mall, my husband's new female coworkers, when he is running late without communicating, when we are separated for a trip, the beach, watching TV, something he says, or even just sitting on the couch. In the beginning, I was triggered multiple times a day; each time sending me right back to that soul-crushing day he finally disclosed everything. I quickly found myself in a crazy panic. I wanted to track everything, go through every history log, get rid of every piece of technology we owned, and somehow lock him away from the world. This would remove all access to pornography and our problems would be solved. Then I would snap out of it and feel crazy for feeling crazy. It’s not rational but it is normal to experience those feelings of betrayal trauma. (This is all about to controlling things so you can feel safe again.)

I had tried for years to figure out how I could fix my relationship with my husband. I believed that it was my fault that we had issues; he let me feel that way, and would sometimes shift the blame to me just to protect his addiction. The truth is I couldn’t fix it, I didn’t know the real problem then. Pornography changes the way that you connect with other people. My husband didn’t have the ability to connect with me in the way that is needed for a healthy marriage. He needed to rewire his brain to see souls with bodies instead of just seeing bodies. Repairing our relationship requires both of us to first heal ourselves and then work together to fill in the pit. So the last year and a half has been spent focusing on myself. I am also a mom so that added to the challenge but putting my own healing at the top of my priority list was the best thing I could have done for my family and myself. It also meant letting go of my husband’s recovery. I know what he is like, and how he treats me, when he is in real recovery and when he is not. That is the only thing I (should) pay attention to recovery wise. I cannot tell him how to recover or control if he even chooses recovery. I can only choose what I do. So I choose me, I choose to find peace and healing regardless of what my hubby chooses. Because I am enough, I am worth it, and it is what Heavenly Father wants for me.

It has been a year since that pit of despair ripped open and while we have a lot of work left to do, I can see a purpose in my pain now. In fact, I have reached a place where I can be grateful, not for the trial itself, but for the lessons I have learned through this trial. I am more empathic than before. I have a clearer view of the plan of salvation. I have more compassion for others and myself. I expect and demand the respect that Heavenly Father wants me to have. My priorities are more in order. I can extend charity to my husband in a more Christ-like and genuine way. I understand now that Christ-like doesn’t mean "without conflict." I know there is a difference between forgiveness and trust. I am able to put my self out there and be seen for who I really am. The things I have learned have touched every aspect of my life. The whole horrible truth had to come out so that I could really heal and so that our relationship can, someday, be repaired. My triggers days are farther apart now. When I am triggered I know what to do and I can stop them before the urge to control everything takes over. Don’t get me wrong, it is still very much a rollercoaster of emotions the pain is still there but it eases with time and recovery work. The trust will take years to rebuild the sadness of that can be overwhelming but now I know where to go with those feelings, I have a support system, I communicate with them and my husband. Instead of vigilantly patrolling my husband, I vigilantly work on my own healing and helping others heal. The darkest days I thought would consume me have passed. I can see the beautiful light starting to shine through, and I know with time, commitment, and most of all the atonement, the light can fully illuminate the darkness.

To those who are hiding or living this struggle: There is hope. You are not alone. The pain and fear you feel are real and valid. It is NEVER your fault. Please know that this is not just the addict’s story, but also your own. You have the right to share your story and to change it’s ending. I encourage you to reach up and reach out. Up to God, and out to your bishop, a local/online support group, or a trusted friend. Know that not everyone knows how to respond to these situations. My prayers are with you. You deserve help. You deserve healing.

To everyone else: Don’t judge and think before you offer advice. Spouses and addicts are still children of God and are worthy of love. My husband a good person with very, very, poor coping mechanisms, as it is with many other addicts. That can be changed. Let them change.

These are some resources that continue to significantly help my husband and me on our recovery:
https://brenebrown.com/
https://salifeline.org/
http://www.sanon.org/
https://addictionrecovery.lds.org/?lang=eng
https://protectyoungminds.org/good-pictures-bad-pictures/

When Righteous Desires Don't Go As Planned: Destiny

I officially met Destiny at an Early Returned Missionary Conference that she told me about via Instagram. I am so grateful she told me about it because so many blessings have already unfolded from meeting her and going to that conference. I am so glad I got to meet her. She is radiant and doing so much to bless others' lives!
Destiny grew up in a speck of a town called Paulden, Arizona. She had the privilege to graduate from Academia Juárez in the Mormon Colonies. Her time in Mexico sparked her travel addiction over the last ten years, attending branch meetings on nearly every continent. She had the sweet blessing to serve two missions, one in Budapest, Hungary, and the other as an online Indexing Support Missionary. She had the miraculous opportunity to write "Home Early...Now What?" to help other early returned missionaries. She keeps busy as a social entrepreneur and is currently writing her third book. Her Instagram is @ldsnomad.

I remember coming home early from my mission and struggling when members would say, "the Lord protects His missionaries."

I couldn't help but wonder why, in my perspective, I hadn't been protected. Why did some missionaries have miraculous healings in the field, but I had to come home despite all my prayers, priesthood blessings, and righteous desires?

These questions pulled at my heartstrings for a long time after my return.

It was back in 2009 that I was called to the Hungary Budapest Mission. I was absolutely ecstatic! My parents had both served missions and I had grown up listening to their stories of preaching the gospel, walking until their feet ached, teaching families prepared to receive, and even my mom's story of when a little boy peed on my mom's head from a second story of a home. I just could not wait to have my own stories like theirs!

As I neared the end of my time in the MTC, my health acted up for the first time in my life. I was sent home to see if we could find some answers. When the results came back clean, all symptoms had disappeared, and I had proven myself in physical therapy. I was re-assigned to the Hungary mission again. I was told I would fly back to the MTC the next day. I had never really unpacked, so packing was a cinch!

When I arrived in Budapest, I was assigned to the most incredible trainer and we were sent to the city of Pest. The first weeks were absolutely incredible. We got rained on, my feet had blisters, we rarely taught past the first lesson, and we prayed for the Hungarian's hearts to be open to the gospel. It was hard, but I was in heaven! It was the mission I always wanted and I was extra grateful after my short stint at home.

At some point, though, I started having significant health problems again. I had no idea what was going on, but I knew that if a miracle didn't happen soon, I'd have to go home. My trainer was wonderful - she saw my heart's desire to continue working even when I wasn't feeling well when it definitely would have been safer if I just stayed at our apartment.

Eventually, my health became so serious that I went to live in the mission home for a week. When even complete rest did not help, my mission president said I would go home in the next day or so. My incredible trainer called as many members as she could and asked them to visit the mission home the night before I left so I could say goodbye. I cannot think of a kinder gift she could offer.

I do not remember much about the flight home and next to nothing about the 12-hour drive home with my parents. The next few months were a blur of doctor visits and unanswered questions. My emotions were "off" most of the time because it hurt too badly to think about the mission. I felt like my relationship with my Heavenly Father no longer existed and I struggled to find any kind of peace.

Where was the protection He promised? I often thought that I had let my Heavenly Father down; that there were Hungarians who wouldn't hear the gospel because "I couldn't cut it."

And to add insult to injury, I found that not only would I struggle with physical problems during this time, but also with mental and spiritual problems. I am so grateful for those family members and friends who supported me and provided me with the spiritual opportunities to keep me moving forward.

The experience of coming home early is different for every person. For me, it took a long time before I was able to talk (or even think) about the mission. Vital steps in my healing (even though they were sometimes painful) were:
1. Doing indexing online for Hungarian names
2. Volunteering at the MTC with future Hungarian missionaries
3. Rooming with one of the return sister missionaries from the mission
4. Hanging out with Hungarian mission RMs at BYU
5. Serving as an online Young Church-Service Missionary for 9 months
6. Working for the Church in the Priesthood Department and having many opportunities to share my experience with coming home early

Each little step in my healing has been a direct result of my Heavenly Father's constant love and my Savior's Atonement.

I have been able to speak with 100s and read the stories of 1000s of early RMs. My book was a wonderful culmination of 9 years of miracles (both large and small).

My desire has been to try and do what the Lord told Paul to do, "when thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren" (Luke 22:31-33). I have the opportunity nearly every week to talk with and support other missionaries who came home earlier than they expected.

Never in 9 years would I have thought I could reach the point in my healing that I could use my experience for good. That is Jesus' Atonement. That is Heavenly Father's love.

I still have days when I wish I had a "normal" mission simply because it would have been an easier road in some ways - but now I am able to better judge my mission on the content and my desire, rather than the length of my service. And I would not change what I have learned about the Atonement, about grace, and about why this life is as hard as it is.

I know He is aware of my heart's desires. And I now know that the Lord did protect me as a missionary, just in different ways than I expected. He protected my fragile testimony through this growing experience. He protected my heart through the terribly low points. I know the Lord truly does "protect His missionaries."

When Righteous Desires Don't Go As Planned: Danelle

I met Danelle at my Galentine's Day Event. We were talking a little before the speakers spoke and she mentioned her struggle with infertility briefly and we connected on Instagram so I could talk to her more and share her story. We share a common goal and I love that!
Danelle is a wife, Target enthusiast, chocolate addict and champion of kitchen karaoke! After years of struggling with infertility, she was left feeling hopeless and alone. In her efforts to find a connection with others experiencing trials, she discovered a love for writing and shares her journey on her blog wecallitajourney.com. Her message is one of hope, faith, and growth. She believes we are all connected through heartache and once we understand that, we can really start to heal. You can also find her on Instagram @wecallitajourney.

Our journey with infertility started almost five years ago. Even writing this now, it’s hard to convince myself that so much time has passed. I don’t like to admit it because hindsight is 20/20 and I might sound crazy but I think I always knew this trial would be a part of my story. Countless times the Spirit has touched my heart reminding me these simple words, “Your heart has been prepared for this.” At times my journey has left me feeling completely broken and worthless but through the cracks, I have felt the warm light of my Heavenly Father’s love. These experiences have been heartbreakingly beautiful and I am finally in a place where I can find gratitude for the journey.

I was married at 19 to an incredible man. The plan was to finish school and have a million babies! Okay… not a million, but we agreed to six! It’s easy to look back and feel ridiculous for how naive we were with family planning. We would talk about names and how far we would space our kids. We even went as far to say how many boys and how many girls we would have… [insert facepalm]. As if we ever really had a say in the matter. (If we’ve learned anything it’s how out of control we really are in all this.) I think about all those times we would panic because we thought we were pregnant and the timing wasn’t following “our plan” [insert facepalm]. All those times we joked about NEVER having kids after seeing one screaming at the grocery store. And lastly, I think about all that money we spent on birth control in the beginning only to find out we were “childproof” all along! If only we knew then what we know now.

I can honestly say for the first six months of trying, it was a relief we weren’t getting pregnant. I guess it’s like they always say, you’re never REALLY ready to have a baby. I think we spent the rest of the year praying that it would “accidentally” happen so that we didn’t have to take responsibility for the timing. After one year of trying we were frustrated with a hint of denial that there was indeed a problem.

I still remember that surreal moment of walking into a Fertility Clinic for the first time after almost two years of trying and thinking, “How are we here?! How are we THAT couple? I’m too young to be dealing with this!” We met with the Dr. and had a plan. We followed the instructions so precisely that it literally drove us crazy! So many tears were shed with that first fertility treatment. At the time I was putting my husband through his Master's program so it took all our savings to pay for our medications and procedure. Surely the Lord would see how great our sacrifice was and He would bless us with a baby. When we finished the procedure, the nurse told us, “From this point forward, we assume you’re pregnant so no alcohol or hot tubs etc.” During that two week wait for our pregnancy results, we assumed we were so we were being cautious and realistic. When the results finally came and we heard the news that we were not pregnant we were so devastated that we realized how much we had actually believed this was a “sure deal.”

As time went on we tried several more procedures, all ending with failed attempts. Each leaving us a little more bitter, broken, and guarded than before. At one point our Dr. suggested we might be great candidates for an upcoming fertility study. If we were a match, we would be able to try a more aggressive (and much more expensive) approach at no cost for us. It felt like an answer to our prayers. Surely this is where our journey would end! It would all come down to one blood test level. Because I was young and otherwise healthy, there was no reason to think my levels wouldn’t be where it needed to be. Before our blood test, we fasted and prayed. We told our families and THEY fasted and prayed. We went to the temple and then prayed some more. Clearly, the Lord would hear and answer our prayers! The bloodwork came back at a level JUST under what was required and we were left again feeling angry and hopeless.

At this point, my faith in God and in prayer had been shaken. It felt so obvious that my name was not on His priority list. I didn’t know what to pray for anymore. I could no longer get down on my knees and continue begging him for the same thing over and over again. Because I valued my relationship with God, I was scared to ask Him for the things He wasn’t giving me. It would risk me being angry with Him when things didn’t pan out and I did not want to be mad at God, although I think He can take it. For a long time my prayers would sound like this, “Dear God, I’m here. Amen.” At one point I told Him He could put me through this but I was going to kick and scream the whole way. After that, it felt as though His arms embraced me and said, “You can put up a struggle but it will be easier if you don’t. Let me change you.”

It wasn’t until more recently that I have seen the beauty in brokenness. I have truly understood the “refiners fire” and that God is good. I guess I always knew that truth but it has meant so much more now that I’ve experienced it first hand. God has not blessed us with a child yet but He has molded and shaped us both into people we never knew we could be. I have found strength I didn’t know I had and courage I never knew was there. I have felt a deeper love for the Gospel as I cling on to every word in the scriptures and every song sung at church. I have felt God’s love for me more in the last few years than I have at any other time in my life and for that, I am eternally grateful. The heartaches are still there but it hurts less often and each day I relearn how to find gratitude and see God’s hand. I know this will be a lifelong pursuit and I guess that’s why We Call it a Journey.